


The Lull Before The Storm

by Lillielle



Series: A Breath of Romance, A Twist of Despair [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Moment of Happiness, Baby Kisses, Bittersweet, Fluff, Gen, Making Dinner, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillielle/pseuds/Lillielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I own nothing.</p>
<p>A moment of peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lull Before The Storm

He kisses her forehead, pulling her against him for a proper kiss. She giggles and playfully taps him on the nose.

"You'll squish the baby!" she chides, holding up the aforementioned infant for inspection. Harry giggles and waves a chubby fist, beaming at his father.

"I could never squish him," James declares, bending down and blowing raspberries on the uncovered tummy. Lily smiles above the tableau. Her hair ribbons have become askew, and she can feel one slowly slipping from her hair, but she can't seem to mind. This is worth it.

"What did Albus say?" Lily finally asks, serious as she sets Harry down in his playpen and turns back to her dinner preparations.

"He's looking for us," James admits, his voice rough as he scrubs a hand over his hair. "Sniv-Severus has bought us some time. But there's only so much he can do."

"He'll never suspect Peter, will he?" Lily stirs the mashed potatoes harder than she needs to, biting her bottom lip. "I don't-I don't want to think of Peter under the Cruciatus curse, James. Or worse..." her voice falters. James comes up behind her, squeezing her shoulders gently in support.

"He won't," James reassures her, kissing her neck. "We'll be fine. When You Know Who is defeated, maybe-maybe we'll go abroad. Paris or something. Even America! Harry would like to see America, I bet."

"You mean, you would," Lily laughs, setting aside the wooden spoon for a moment and tying her hair back up so that stray tendrils will stop sticking to her face and so when she picks up her adventurous infant once more, he will not try the usual trick of stuffing her hair into his mouth.

"So?" James strikes his irrepressible grin, and Lily can't help but smile back, despite the shroud of worry.

"Dinner's ready," she tells him, carrying the mashed potatoes to the table and motioning for him to retrieve Harry. The calendar above the playpen flaps a bit as James picks up his one-year-old son and holds him close for a moment.

It reads October 30, 1981.


End file.
